


A Whisper In The Dark (up turns down, left turns right)

by Averia



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Relationships, Experiment!Steve Harrington, Gen, Human Experimentation, Multi, Post-Season/Series 02, Pre-Season/Series 03, Steve Harrington-centric, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-03-29 23:33:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19030189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Averia/pseuds/Averia
Summary: "Well, if you eat your spinach, you'll get some Eggos too."Jane's eyes went impossibly wide. "Eggos?" The question was almost a religious whisper and Steve smirked."Only if you eat up."Jane's eyes narrowed, sharp gaze turning towards Mike."Eat."It all starts with El stumbling upon a family picture of Mr. Harrington and Mrs. Harrington standing behind a younger version of Steve, who has not yet gathered a mane of hair and instead sports a buzz cut not unlike the one El had just a year ago. To top it off, there's something familiar about Mr. Harrington that makes her thinkPapadespite the dark hair.





	1. Chapter 1

Steve kept glancing at the Rugrats sitting in the living room all the while preparing an easy dinner for them. He was the world's greatest babysitter after all, in his and Dustin's humble opinion anyway. Max and, _maybe_ , Lucas would probably agree, the rest - well - not so much.

He quickly snapped his attention back to the pan sizzling in front of him, when Mike glared at him from the living room with narrowed brown eyes, even though the little shithead should be grateful and worship the ground Steve was walking on.

Had he not agreed to host this little D&D session, Mike's psychic girlfriend would not be allowed to partake in the game. And speaking of psychic: Steve was not looking forward to the Chief at his front door. Despite their shared trauma, Hopper had not yet forgotten the shit Steve had pulled over the years, which was just fucking great.

If not for Miss Byers - who rightfully disappeared out of town with her boys in tow (and Nancy) the second the chance presented itself -, he would not even be granted the honor of taking care of El or Jane or whatever the girl's real name was. Incidentally, Miss Byers was the only one Hopper trusted to gather the whole, hah, _Party_ and now that she trusted Steve - for unfathomable reasons -, ... well, it was incredible how fast Hopper had allowed his adoptive daughter to be present at the Harrington residence even though he had refused to think about such an absurd idea when Dustin had brought it up.

Steve finally understood why Dustin and Will were always gravely talking about the _Power of Love_ the second they mentioned the two adults. Not that Steve was unfamiliar with that power. He could see it while Nancy and Jonathan were together, knew Mike and psychic girl behaved the same way - if the complaints of the others held any truth - and once upon a year he had felt the same whenever Nancy had pinned him with her 'you're an idiot' gaze.

The doorbell rang and Steve let out a dramatic sigh full of suffering. Sadly, the power of love did not automatically turn the gruff Chief of Police into a gallant knight for the peasants - which, as far as his former friends and fucking Hargrove were concerned - he belonged to now.

"Hey, Chief," he greeted with relief when he was not pinned to the spot with a glare, "Hi... Jane?"

He smiled down at her, testing the name and getting a little twitch of lips in return.

"Steve," she responded, and he stepped to the side, letting her through before greeting the Chief as well.

"Steve", Hopper mirrored his adoptive daughter as his gaze roamed over his face. Steve bit his lip, gaze jumping away, thread hollowing his insides at the concern, guilt weighing him down, now that he was faced with the emotion.

"It's healing well; considering we did not admit you to the hospital."

"Yeah," Steve nodded, fingertips pressing into his biceps as his arms crossed protectively in front of his chest.

"And you did not press charges either," Hopper trailed off, gaze stuck to his face - Steve could feel it - and instead of facing the man as he should, his gaze stuck to the fidgeting fingers. Of course, Hopper was nervous for a smoke. Nobody would care if he lit one up on the front porch, but Steve kept his mouth shut.

"I heal fast," he replied, a little grin on his lips as he finally met the probing gaze again, everyone had been trying to urge him to agree to something else but rainbow band-aids and ice, "and Hargrove is just a kid."

In his nightmares, though, Hargrove was no kid at all, simply a monster with a too bright grin and slanted eyes and bloody fists.

"Then you are just a kid too," Hopper replied and Steve's grin turned a bit more genuine.

"As far as Miss Byers and you are concerned anyway," he tried to brush it off, but - _but_ this was nothing to be brushed off. He had nearly died, would have if not for Max and her balls of steel. Sometimes, he wondered how it would have ended if he had never opened his eyes again. The kids would have been fine. He had done nothing, nothing of importance at all. "But don't worry, Chief. I'll be able to take care of them for one night like a big boy."

They were nothing but empty words, but magically they worked. Hopper was granting him the diversion and all Steve could remember was his mother whispering: _Hospitals are not for people like us. We have a private clinic for inconveniences like that, stupid little boy._

And while Steve had not seen his father for nearly a year now, he could safely assume that if he got wind of anyone hurting him, that someone would end up with their life so throughout destroyed there would be no coming back. Steve had seen the destructive storm his father could evoke before, and he did not need a repeat performance, one of the many reasons why he had never whispered a word about Jonathan either.

In fourth grade, Ian had just been a stupid little kid pushing him too hard off the swing and his always absent Dad had been there just this once, steely-eyed and cruel in his execution of complete defamation. Ian had been admitted to a psychotic clinic at the age of eleven for overly and repetitively aggressive behavior against peers.

And yeah, Hargrove should get a handle on his aggression, but Steve doubted his father would act as mildly with a seventeen-year-old who nearly killed him. Ian had given him nothing more but a bruise on his butt and adolescent tears of shock.

A sigh escaped from his lips as he pushed the food off the stove.

"Hey, shitheads!" he called, "I told your parents you would eat something decent before playing the rest of the day while on a sugar rush. Get in the kitchen!"

"Yeah, yeah, Steve, don't fret it!" Dustin called back, but he was already walking nearer with every word. It was not the first time he had cooked for Dustin. The boy knew it would taste good.

"What did you cook?" Mike asked, words pronounced independently, nose crinkling in displeasure as if Nancy had told her brother that Steve sucked at everything for some nefarious reason. Old Steve would have thought that, would have Carol and Tommy by each side to whisper affirmations into his ear. New badass babysitter Steve with a nail bat knew better, knew that Mike could not help being a stuck up little brat.

"Eww, is that spinach?" Max asked, pushing back from her chair a bit, mirroring Mikes wrinkle. Steve rolled his eyes.

"It's healthy, Max," Lucas tried to reason, gesturing with his hands in the air parallel to each other, space inflating and deflating. He tended to do that when he had no clue how to make a person understand. It was so different from Dustin's grand gestures, more contained but not shy like Will's. Steve hid a grin behind his hand when he pretended to think.

"Well, if you eat your spinach, you'll get some Eggos too."

Jane's eyes went impossibly wide. "Eggos?" The question was almost a religious whisper and Steve smirked.

"Only if you eat up."

Jane's eyes narrowed, sharp gaze turning towards Mike.

"Eat."

Her voice brooked no argument and Dustin made a little _eeping_ sound while Mike just looked betrayed. Soon enough laughter broke out among the table, Jane's lips curling into a shy little smile. In the end, they did eat their vegetables with a surprisingly small amount of complaints and in honor of their success, Steve allowed them to upgrade their Eggos with vanilla and chocolate ice cream.

"You know," Dustin said, trying to catch the rest of the chocolate sticking to the corner of his mouth with his tongue instead of grabbing the perfectly functional napkin right in front of him, "can't we just explore your house? It's so big."

Steve raised his eyebrow, glancing at the others to see them curiously peeking at him as if they did not dare to show their eagerness. A sigh left his lips. He had signed up for D&D, not for tiny detectives to snoop through his house in search of who knows what.

"Sure, but," the pool burned against his back, a constant reminder even after all this time, "Stay inside and leave my parents' room alone, you hear me?"

He glowered at them, getting a chorus of _yes, sir's_ (a _yes, mom_ from Dustin) and even a little salute from Lucas before they were off like a glorified pack of squirrels. Another sigh heaved past his lips and while he listened to the ruckus filling up the house with a light he had not felt in the rooms for a while, his lips formed into a genuine smile.

Steve was just ready to lean back against the couch cushions, the music starting up with Steve Perry singing _winter is here again oh lord, haven't been home in a year or more_ when a hand grabbed his wrist. His eyes snapped open to stare down at Jane, her face all scrunched up.

"Papa," she said, holding up a portrait of his family. He wondered how she’d gotten it down before he remembered what powers she had. He was really glad the kids could not read his thoughts, otherwise, he would already hear a chorus of: _Oh, Steve!_

The picture had been drawn years ago, back when his father and mother had still pretended to be a family, pretended to give a shit about him. His father's hair had already been white then, but the creator had been told to paint it black. He had stood still for that picture for hours on end – which was a rather cruel experience for a ten-year-old.

Steve barely recognized his own face every time he walked past it and even now, confronted with its existence, he could only chew his lip in barely concealed agitation. He had been a small kid and he kind of hated that he had never lost his lankiness.

"That's my Dad, yeah," he replied.

"No," Jane responded, placing a hand to her chest, "Papa."

Steve raised his eyebrows, wondering if she had lost her mind. Then, suddenly, Dustin made a high-pitched sound behind him with Lucas and Mike not far behind.

Steve caught Max' eye, finally aware that the nerd group had gathered in the span of a few seconds. With another sigh, he asked: " _Okay_ , what is going on?"

Before anyone could as much as utter a word, Jane caught Steve's wrist to turn the inner side up. First, she only looked at it, and then she glared at it. Then, she grabbed the other one, did the same before experimentally smoothing over them both, the boys nearly tumbling over the back of the couch on top of the seat while they stared. _What the hell?_

Suddenly Dustin ripped down Steve's collar. _And like, what the hell?_

"Nothing," Dustin mumbled, flabbergasted.

Jane's frown deepened and Mike sighed a _Thank god_.

"Hello?" Steve tried to get their attention, "Would someone explain to me what is going on? I don't speak dipshit."

Dustin just frowned at him all serious, looked like he was ready to talk science in that obnoxious way Steve admired as much as it annoyed him.

"Me neither," Max piped up when he was ignored and that at least got Lucas talking.

"This," he explained, pointing towards Steve's father, "Is Martin Brenner."

Steve blinked, ignored the continued probing and squinting Jane subjected his right wrist to.

"No," he replied slowly, "That is John Harrington. My father."

"I know Papa," Jane scowled beside him, letting go of his wrist.

Steve stared at her, then back at the picture, fingers twisting his jeans.

"Let's pretend," - _we aren't pretending!_ -, "that you are right. How exactly is he in hiding if he can be so easily recognized? And how come none of the government agents scooping through my home have tried to get him through me?"

They stared at him, for a moment flabbergasted before the screaming started - _god, this was all too familiar._

"Uh, hello, Steve? Have you ever heard of double agents? Of course, he still has spies in the government!"

"And nobody involved has seen your Dad, obviously!"

"Right," Steve replied, with a sigh and a hand on his forehead, not believing them even though he knew he should. They would not joke about such serious matters.

"When was the last time you saw him?"

Steve pursed his lips, thinking about Dustin's question while Max sent him a look that said - _What are you doing? Don't believe this bullshit!_

"On our, _um_ , mandatory family summer vacation to the Dead Sea, just before he went back to work for his advertisement company." Steve tried to stress the non-governmental work but he had lost their attention by then. Dustin looked like a fish out of water and Mike pale in a way that showed his freckles so much more, he could have been translucent.

"The Dead Sea," Lucas deadpanned, "The Dead Sea? Jesus!"

"We are rich and we have international relations. I'm sorry, ok?" Steve tried, but all he got was that expanding hand gesture from Lucas while he tried to speak.

"No, Steve. The Dead Sea!"

"Look, Lucas. I don't see your problem!"

"Saltwater!" the kid cried, arms fully expanding.

"Oh my God!" Dustin replied before Steve could try to make sense of anything, "Is there salt in that damn pool as well?!"

Steve stared at him, then at the others. Even Jane looked a bit out of it now. Carefully, he nodded.

The scream emitting from Dustin was deafening and rang in his ears for days.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the amazing responses! To be honest with you, I am not sure where this is going yet. While Steve's past is set, his future is still wide open.

Steve shifted from one foot to another, trying and failing to gather the Chief's attention with the movement. It wasn't the first time he had felt inferior to the only family picture in the house... he had just never assumed his anxieties would spill over to monster hunting. After all, monster-hunting-Steve had no fear, no weakness. He did what had to be done with a nail-studded bat.

Until Hopper had arrived, Jane hadn't let go of the damn picture once, staring and glaring at it while blood ran down her nose. As her personal white knight, Mike had tried to stop her vehemently from doing whatever the hell she was doing. In return, she had willfully ignored him to, well,  _glare harder_. None of them had been amused by that. Maybe, she expected an alternate dimension to open up and swallow them whole. Yeah, that had to be it because his father would not suddenly start talking to her - through the picture - in the voice of Martin Brenner.

As the gentleman Steve Harrington was - had become, whatever -, he'd gotten her a clean kitchen rag to wipe her nose. Of course, Mike had ripped it right out of his hand with an impressive glare that only rivaled his sister's.

By that point, even Max had given up on trying to speak ( _We are holding a discussion right now. Based on clues._ ) about something not Upside-Down related. She'd proceeded to go through his family's records huffing and puffing. Steve hadn't said anything when she'd proclaimed Van Halen's 1984 as her favorite record. Who knew what the Rugrats would say if they knew his father liked that one too.

"Your father isn't from here, is he?" Hopper finally asked, brows furrowed and mouth pinched.

Steve shifted more - like a willow tree in the breeze, arms uncrossing and then crossing again when he had no clue what to do with them. "No?"

"Hm." Another bout of silence ran by them; then Hopper tugged the picture under his arm. "I'll be taking that with me."

"What?" he asked flatly.

"We have to investigate."

"Yeah, right," Steve replied dubiously, eyes squinting, "And what am I supposed to tell my mum when she comes back?"

He hated the picture but his mother didn't. She always noticed it first; the second she came home she stood in front of it, a smile on her lips. She hadn't looked at him like that in years.

"She's probably in the know," Dustin admonished from somewhere behind him.

"Dustin is right, we can't make anyone suspicious," Mike agreed. Steve was sure Lucas and Dustin were both nodding their head... as if Mike Wheeler needed any more (over-)confidence.

"This is ridiculous," Steve laughed, arms rising in agitation, "My parents are  _not_  government agents!"

"Bad men," Jane said, getting him to turn to the army of gremlins. Her gaze was narrow, lips flat. "Bad men," she repeated.

His stomach twisted in knots, her stare met him head-on, daring him to deny the truth.

Ian ghosted through his head, his fearful eyes replaced by his father's worried blue.

"Maybe, but that doesn't mean he is Martin Brenner," Steve replied, a strange calmness overcoming him. His father would never win a 'Best Dad'-Award, but he hadn't been horrible either - not to Steve at least.

"How about we just take a picture?" Max piped up, always the voice of reason among too much combined middle-school brain power, "Jonathan has a camera, right?"

"They won't be back for a week," Mike snapped.  _Ahhh_ , the little sour puff missed Will. That was where the land lay.

"And Brenner was on the loose for over a year before you even realized he's back," Steve replied, hands on his hips. They stared at each other, eyes narrowing further.  _Jeez_ , Mike was like a little volcano... or a very irritating constantly reappearing pimple on the chin.

Jane frowned at their behavior; her puckered mouth could be seen from a mile away. She wasn't much better, ok? ...also, he wasn't going to let a bunch of middle schoolers judge him.

"Fine," the Chief sighed, hand on his jeans pocket as if he now really really craved his cigarette, "We'll wait."

Steve barely refrained from sticking out his tongue at Mike.

"If your mom visits, try to find out what you can." Hopper frowned, hesitated as if he was not sure he should say more. "Subtly."

A huff escaped Steve, corners of his lips rising desperately.  _Right,_  this was all so easy for them to say. (He willfully ignored Dustin's  _subtle? Steve? I know they both start with an S but you know..._  and Mike's  _I doubt he knows how to spell that._  Little assholes! ...well, one of them.) It wasn’t as if his mom would suddenly decide to visit in the next days. Steve just didn’t want them to take the picture, the only evidence he had, that he was part of his parent’s life.

👍 👎

Steve wanted to try. He really really wanted to but in the end all Steve did was lean against the wall and squint just as Jane had squinted at the picture. The phone sat innocently on the commode, cushioned by a pink table cloth. His parents stared back at him from their wedding picture. They looked as if nothing in the world could take their happiness away but when had that ever been reality?

Maybe the Mind Flayer itself would burst out of the speaker if he took a teeny-tiny step forward. Maybe the creature was the reason El saw Martin Brenner in his dad.

He could call his mom, try to be subtle, but what was there to ask? _Hi mom, do you know anything about that creepy lab in the woods? Does Dad work there? Is he an evil mastermind? What's your deal anyway?_  None of these questions were subtle.

Maybe, he should call his dad.

Even without a difficult question, their conversations consisted of barely more than a few words and that was only if she decided to speak to him at all. Sometimes, her gaze passed straight through him when he stood in front of her as if he were a ghost she was unable to see. Her disregard would be worse on the phone.

Steve didn't need that, couldn't fish for an answer despite wanting to. His arms crossed tighter over his chest. If he called she would be otherwise preoccupied, maybe painting her nails or watching a show, while he rambled on and on and on until she brushed him off with a short sentence.

At least his father wanted him to work at his company, his mother though... his mother did not want him at all.

👍 👎

The next day Dustin showed up with Max and Lucas in tow as if that were a normal occurrence. Steve had thought the flock of gremlins was barricading itself in the Wheeler’s basement until they were satisfied with their planning and scheming. And, as much as Dustin was turning into a new (annoying) fixture in his life, Max and Lucas had no reason to be part of this new strange constellation.

"Tell me it's not another D'Arc," because that was really the only reason why the four of them would come together, right?

"What? No! ", shouted Dustin, "Steve!"

Max snorted, scratching her nose innocently when Dustin glared at her. Too cool to show more of a reaction, Lucas just rolled his eyes and Steve rolled them as well but with a sigh. Yes,  _that_  was a huge difference.

"Get in you little shitheads."

Dustin spluttered.

"You-you can't just say that! You're our babysitter, Steve!  _(Uhm, no Dustin.)_ Take responsibility! Insulting us so much is detrimental to our mental growth!"  

Steve was pretty sure the opposite was the case but whatever, he wasn't the smart one; neither could he read people like an open book with one psychic powered death glare.

"What do you even want?" Steve asked on the way to the kitchen, raising an eyebrow when Dustin pulled a crumbled tiny(!) white lab coat out of his schoolbag to hold it up proudly. The big grin on his face showed all his missing teeth, locks wild on his head.  Steve crumbled into the next chair, hand over his eyes. He already resembled a crazed professor. "Where did you even get that?"

"A shop? Duh!" Dustin replied and Steve wondered when the polliwog in front of him had turned into a sassy teenager. _God_ , Steve felt so old. As if reading his mind, Max patted his arm.

"We are getting samples of the pool," Lucas stated confidently and Steve stared at them, mouth opening and no sound coming out. His head pounded. Screaming at him, clawing at him, torturing him.

" _No._ "

"Steve, you don't understand!"

"Someone died in that pool!" he snapped, index finger repeatedly knocking against the table "You are not going anywhere near that pool. You are benched. Benched! Capisce?!"

Lucas glared. Dustin glared. Too many glares in two days.

"Fine," they said in unison, petulance so obvious when they both raised their hands, lower lips jutted out and gazes going skyward in a grand show of unfairness. Max laughed beside him. Good, he'd thought that looked funny as hell too, like two octopuss--  _uhm, yeah_  that was probably not the plural.

👍 👎

The Byers (plus Nancy) returned on the Sunday before school started again. Steve didn't expect to find Hopper in front of his house the second they did. Neither the Rugrats nor Nancy and Jonathan were in sight. His disappointment must have been obvious because Hopper's thick eyebrows traveled up his forehead. There went Steve's dignity.

He let the Chief in and brought him up the stairs. On the wall, the picture always seemed grander.

"So," Steve said and stopped, staring at a dark spot on the wall underneath the picture. The flashlight went off. Silence.

"Jonathan is going to develop it at school," Hopper explained, the camera hitting his thigh, "You want to come, Kid?"

Steve frowned. "Sure."

He did not like this. So what if his father looked similar to Brenner? Maybe Brenner had a doppelganger! Or a twin!

Steve shuffled after the Chief. Curious brown eyes peered at him through the rearview mirror and Steve stared right back, suddenly even more uncomfortable.

"She wanted to see you," Hopper explained, looking at him as if Steve was supposed to know why. And ok, he actually did but this was ridiculous. He was an eighteen-year-old boy; he knew his body quite well. There were no marks on his body.

"Hi, Jane," he greeted because  _you are a respectful young adult, Steven._

For the rest of the ride, he looked out of the window and ignoref that he already felt like a test subject being scrutinized by lab assistants. The faint music of the radio was the only noise in the car, every so often interrupted by static. After everything he had experienced, it should have made him nervous. Instead, he felt at ease; the buzzing a calming rhythm.

👍 👎

Jonathan looked at the camera, then back to him, then back to the camera.

"Come on, we don't have all day," Steve sighed. Whatever Jonathan had learned from the others did not seem to be good. He could only assume what horror-stories Mike had told Will. That's why middle-schoolers should not be involved in monster hunting.

"Steve," Jonathan trailed off. They had never quite become friends while he was together with Nancy and now, well, now everything had only turned more awkward.

"He's right," Hopper replied gruffly.

Jonathan hesitated a moment longer, seemed paler than usual, but then he walked inside the darkroom. They followed.

Steve wasn't sure why he had come. It was just a picture of a picture taken for some stupid investigation. His father was not Martin Brenner.

And that stupid red light was too... smothering. Steve sighed, meeting Jane's gaze. She was still watching him, and he wondered what she saw if she could truly read minds. Slowly he looked away from the young girl, watching Jonathan as he developed the photo. It wasn't a picture of the Holy Grail but Jonathan’s reverence and care seemed to indicate so.

Had he developed the photos he had taken of Nancy and him the same way?

Jesus Christ. No wonder someone had seen and told Tommy and him.

Steve rubbed his forehead, rolling his pullover up to his elbows. It was too warm, the light too strange, too red.

"I'm leaving," he called, "Tell me if you need anything."

Jonathan raised his hand. Hopper shortly looked up, frowning at him. Pity. Steve was sure that was pity. What had Jane told him? What had the other Rugrats? Why was everyone looking at him as if he were a different person? Good old Steve had not left. His problems were the same.

He turned. Maybe the quarry was void of Tommys and Billys. Maybe sticking his hands in the cold water and feeling the freeze travel through his whole body would help. Maybe, he could be wholesomely lonesome there.

Jane grabbed his wrist.

"Steve?" her voice was soft. Her vulnerability pricked at his heart. Steve wondered since when he cared so much for a bunch of kids. He had never wanted siblings; at least not ever since his father had sat him down, telling him siblings weren't good for him. His mother had cried that night, Steve remembered.

"Look, Jane, I can't give you what you want."

Steve wasn't sure if she even wanted him to be family. As Dustin had told him she had a pretty _bitchin'_  big sister. There was no need for a big brother like him.

Jane did look, though; looked up at him without any hint of a glare. Just two doe eyes. Then slowly, all too slowly her attention traveled down. Gently, she turned his wrist up. For a moment Steve didn't know what he was seeing, the red glow of his skin and everything around him sending his senses into overdrive. Then, he noticed the dark spots on his arm. Two circles. No, two zeros and one...

Jane tugged at his arm, eyebrows fighting between disappointment and fury... no, was that sadness?

"You don't want to be brother?" she asked. And Steve tried to answer but all that came out was: "My."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. <3
> 
> Feel free to point out mistakes.
> 
> Tumblr: [Aveaveria](http://aveaveria.tumblr.com/)


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